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Our Basset Hound, Norman, died today. Beth and I were with him as he was put to sleep.
He had lymphoma, which came on quickly and was only discovered while he was recuperating (or rather failing to recuperate) from his last ear surgery. He was completely deaf and nearly blind. He couldn't eat, couldn't drink, couldn't walk or even stand. I carried him out to the yard -- which only a few weeks ago would have been impossible, but he's lost so much weight that it was depressingly easy -- but he couldn't even go to the bathroom. His stomach was hard as a rock. He was having a lot of trouble breathing. He had stopped barking and howling completely. He could barely wag his tail.
So it was time. But it was very hard.
He was truly a joy of a dog. And dashingly handsome. I'm really going to miss him.